Meet my priest
by RedHatMeg
Summary: (Formally: "Healers of body and soul") A series of oneshots, in which father Lantom stumbled upon people known by Matt Murdock. Chapter one: Claire. Chapter two: Stick. Chapter three: Frank Castle.
1. Healers of body and soul

**I've had a reflection the other day and from that reflection came to be this fanfic, where Claire meets with father Lantom.**

 **To be fair, I'm thinking about making it a series of oneshots in which various people Matt knows, are meeting with our favorite priest. However, I wouldn't do the one with Foggy, because I kinda did it with _Sacrament of penance and reconcilation_.**

 **Reviews, please?**

 **Healers of body and soul**

Generally when the burner phone was ringing, Claire expected to hear either Matt, or Foggy. Matt was kind enough to tell her explicitly what was medically wrong with him, which gave her some idea of what she should take with herself. It was a bit harder when the one, who was calling to her, was Daredevil's friend. Claire had nothing against Foggy – ever since they've met, she was finding him very endearing, even though, he was also pissed at Matt for a long time after the revelation… But him calling to her from the burner phone, meant that their favorite vigilante was unconscious and, probably, needed first aid she had to instruct Foggy about.

Nevertheless, this time she heard neither Matt, nor Foggy.

"Hello? Am I talking with nurse Temple?"

It was a male voice. It sounded old. Not raspy old, just old. It also sounded worried, so although Claire didn't recognize the guy, she dismissed the idea that it was some criminal.

"Who's talking?" First things first. "Where did you get that phone?"

"My name is Lantom. I'm… eh… We have a common friend. And this friend, you see, nurse Temple, just collapsed on my floor. He told me to call you, before he passed out."

"I see."

She didn't know who Lantom was – maybe it was someone who Daredevil encountered many times, or some friend of Matt Murdock, who also knew his secret… or just some random guy, who was told by Matt to call to her, but she doubted it was the third option. Either way, she decided that for a time being she will trust Lantom, whoever he was.

"What can you tell me about his injuries at the moment?"

"Well…" There was a pause and Claire suspected that Lantom was gathering the data. After some time he told her: "He doesn't seem to have anything broken. But he does bleed from his chest and he was limping before he fainted."

"Okay, Lantom," She replied. "how is his pulse?"

Another pause as he was probably checking the it.

"The pulse is… I think it's normal. If only a bit erratic."

"Good." Claire said. "Where are you right now?"

The location he gave her surprised her. It looked like Daredevil decided to stumble upon some church. Claire shrugged it. Well, Matt could never predict where he was going to collapse, being half dead and all… And he was lucky that some random parishioner decided to call to her…

"It looks like he suffers a blood loss." She informed Lantom. "Hang on, I will come soon. Meanwhile you try to stop the bleeding…" She was going to ask him if he had any cloth to put it on the wound, but he said:

"I already did that."

"Oh…"

Well, he was a quick thinker. Good.

"Okay then. I'm on my way."

She disconnected, gathered everything she needed and left to the place the fearsome Daredevil was supposed to be.

When she got to the place and entered the church, she quickly spotted a figure lying on the floor. That view didn't surprise her all that much. She was actually prepared for something like that. However, she wasn't prepared for the fact that there was a priest bending over Matt and trying to stop the bleeding with a violet scarf.

She shouldn't be surprised all that much. After all, it _was_ a church and Matt once told her he was Catholic. And, honestly, who would be in the church at this hour, if not a priest? Still, for a moment Claire was looking at Lantom – oh, sorry, _father_ Lantom – because, really, of all the people in the world, she would never suspect a priest kneeling next to Daredevil and trying to stop the vigilante's bleeding.

Their eyes met. Both father Lantom and nurse Temple were observing each other with some kind of curiosity… and understanding. They were meeting for the first time and there were few questions hanging in the air (like: "How did you came to know Daredevil, father?"), but there was a bit more pressing matter and they both decided to leave the questions… for now.

Claire's gaze quickly turned from priest's face to the unconscious Matt. The nurse kneeled and started to examine the wound.

"Damn it, where does that thing open?" She said, searching for any kind of zip up.

"Well…" A weak voice began. Both Claire and father Lantom looked at Matt, who apparently decided to wake up. "there must be something at my belt…"

He instructed her on what she should do to take the costume off.

"Can you check my head too?" He asked. "I think, I have a concussion, but I'm not sure."

Claire touched his mask, but she suddenly froze. She looked at father Lantom and then back on Matt.

"Hey, are you sure… we can trust him?"

Matt smiled. Then he lifted his head and turned to the priest.

"Father Lantom, Claire. Claire," He turned to her. "this is father Lantom. He's my confessor."

And suddenly everything was clear. Strangely enough, she could imagine the Devil of Hell's Kitchen going to the church in full gear and sitting in the confession booth to tell some very confused priest that he just kicked butt of few criminals.

The priest in question looked a bit embarrassed, but he quickly regained his composure and with a really calm expression said:

"Pleased to meet you, nurse Temple. I would shake your hand, but I'm busy right now."

Claire gave him a small smile.

"Pleased to meet you too, father. Now," She looked at Matt. "let's see what we have here…"

It turned out Matt didn't have a concussion. He did, however, have a wound on his chest that needed to be fixed. All three of them decided that it would be better if they move Matt to the bench in the forefront, where he would be able to lay down in more comfortable position, while Claire would have much more space to maneuver. So Claire and father Lantom helped the shirtless and maskless vigilante to walk to the forefront, they settled him carefully on the bench and the nurse began the stitching.

For the first few seconds father Lantom was just observing Matt's torso covered in scars and Claire working on the stitches. But then he suddenly stood up and went to the sacristy, leaving the nurse and her patient alone. There was a short moment of silence and then…

"I wish you two could meet in a better circumstances." Matt said.

"Yeah, you have a habit of introducing your friends to me, while being half dead." Claire retorted. "So maybe next time just make a dinner for me and your landlord."

"My landlord doesn't know I'm Daredevil."

"Well then, it's a shame. Maybe you would get a vigilante discount."

Matt gave a hiss of pain. For a few seconds he was silent.

"What do you think about my priest?" He asked suddenly.

Claire looked at him with mild surprise, but then just returned to her work.

"And what should I think? He's fine, I guess."

"I will have to apologize to him. For staining his stole."

It took Claire few seconds to recall from the depths of her memory the information that the stole was the name for the violet scarf priests were wearing during liturgy and father Lantom was using to stop Matt's bleeding.

"He has a more pressing matter on his mind right now. One of his parishioners was wounded." She replied.

Father Lantom came back and sat next to Matt.

"I've brought a shirt and a chocolate bar, Matthew." He explained, then put the clothes next to Matt and the chocolate bar in vigilante's hands.

The blind man smiled.

"Oh, and it has almonds! Thank you, father." He said, but didn't unwrap the bar.

At first Claire didn't know why the priest did that (was he treating Matt like a child?), but then something clicked in her mind. Oh, yeah, when you were donating blood, at the end you were getting a chocolate to supplement the energy. Not a bad idea, although, on a larger scale it would probably not be effective. Once again father Lantom proved to be a quick thinker.

Another moment of silence. Claire was doing her work, while father Lantom observed it. And suddenly he chuckled.

The nurse gave him a quick glance before she asked:

"What's so funny, father?"

"I thought that there was no way I would ever be able to make a decent stitches. I can't even sew a button in my shirt."

"If it will be of any comfort for you, father, my first stitches looked horrible. It all comes down to practice."

"You can always take a sip of whiskey so your hands would be steady." Matt added, smiling.

"I'm just really grateful I never had to treat such wounds myself." Father Lantom said with a bit melancholic tone.

Claire glanced at him again and a weird thought crossed her mind – a thought that he wasn't actually staring at her hand stitching up Matt, but at Matt's wounded, covered with scars torso. Who knew – maybe he was seeing it for the first time. After all, what were the odds that Daredevil was taking his shirt off in church? And from the look on the priest's face, father Lantom was disturbed by the view.

Claire shot him a gentle smile.

"Don't worry, father. You did a good job."

"Yes," Matt joined in comforting. "you didn't panic and you knew what to do before the medical help would come. I would probably bleed to death, if it wasn't for your quick thinking."

A small smile crossed priest's face, but then his expression was once again sad.

"Human body is such a feeble thing…" He said, almost whispered. "And there are so many ways to cause it pain."

Claire finished the stitching and started to put the bandage on the wound. A very uncomfortable silence fell upon them and when she looked at Matt, he also seemed to be disturbed by priest's words. She knew why was that. He probably did something nasty to someone, who probably deserved it, nevertheless, the vigilante wasn't happy about it.

But he dismissed it with a smile and said:

"You know, Claire, you have to taste father Lantom's latte."

She raised her eyebrows and looked at the priest.

"It's not the best latte in the world, but it's decent." He said.

"To be fair, I could use some caffeine after what happened." The nurse replied.

"We all could." Matt added.

"Well then, I will prepare three cups."

Father Lantom stood up and once again, he left them alone.

"Done." Claire said with sense of accomplishment. "Now, remember to be careful with the stitches. Try to move as little as possible."

Matt put the chocolate bar on the bench and took the shirt left by the priest.

"I know." He said, starting to put the shirt on. "Claire, you go to the sacristy and tell father Lantom I will join you later."

He seemed distant. He probably had something on his mind and needed some time alone.

Claire didn't say much. She just stood up and went to the backdoor, she had previously seen father Lantom exiting. When she was in the sacristy, she spotted Matt's priest almost immediately. He was walking towards the door, holding two cups of coffee. When he saw her, he stopped.

"Oh, and where is Matthew?"

"He told me to tell you that he'll come later."

"I see." Father Lantom looked down, before he gazed at the nurse again and said: "Well then I guess he have to be left alone for now. Come," He pointed the long table that probably was place where the parish council was meeting. "before the coffee gets cold."

Matt didn't lie – the latte really was good. For the next couple of minutes Claire and father Lantom were sitting at the table, drinking coffee and talking about random things (mostly Matt-related)… Actually, no, scratch that. _She_ was mostly doing the talking. The priest proved to be as reserved as Daredevil himself. It was kind of annoying, because she would like to talk about Matt's escapades with someone, who also was sharing his secret and with whom Matt shared the details of his vigilante work (for some reason, Foggy didn't always know what his friend was doing previous night). So she was asking father Lantom about certain things, like: "Do you recall, father, when Matt was fighting with a ninja?", hoping that he will say something, but he was still silently sipping his coffee. Still, she was persistent.

"Please, can we not talk about it?" He finally spoke. "If you feel the need to get it out of your system, fine, but don't expect me to do the same. Because I can't say anything."

At first Claire wanted to ask why, but then got another of those enlightening moments of this night. Oh, right. He was Matt's confessor. That meant that whatever Matt was telling him, the priest couldn't reveal it to anybody.

"I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He gave her a forgiving smile, but suddenly he looked at the door. And then he turned to the nurse.

"It's taking Matthew too long." He stood up. "Excuse me, nurse Temple. I have to check on him."

And before she could say anything, he left. At first she was just sitting at the table, holding the cup of latte, but then she realized she was kind of curious. Maybe there was something wrong with Matt… or maybe he was just contemplating something and lost the track of time. Either way, despite her better judgment, she stood up and went to the door. It was thick and she could hardly hear anything, so she opened it a bit and looked into church.

She saw Matt and father Lantom sitting on the bench. The priest was looking at the vigilante with somewhat disinterested expression.

"You don't like almonds?" He asked. "I have other flavors, if that's the case."

"No, father, I just can't take it." Matt replied and gave the chocolate bar back to the priest.

"And why is that, Matthew?"

Matt gave a heavy sight.

"You recall, father, this raising method, when children are good and parents or teachers decide to reward them with candies?" He asked. Father Lantom didn't say anything, he just let Matt continue: "For some reason, taking this chocolate would seem like a reward. And I don't deserve a reward for what have I done tonight."

"Oh, I see." Father Lantom crossed his arms. "So what you have done tonight?"

For a moment Matt was silent, but then he turned his head in father Lantom's direction. And then he told him about the group of gang members he encountered in some alley, when they were trying to force an owner of grocery shop to pay them for "protection". It went like most of Matt's actions – some of them were trying to put up a fight, while others fled as soon as they saw him (the grocery shop's owner ran away too). But when Matt was going to ask one of the remaining gangsters who they were working for, someone attacked him from behind.

"He sounded like he was thirteen or something. And he screamed: 'Leave my brother alone!'" Matt bit his lip and continued: "They were brothers, father. I don't know, if the younger one was dragged into this, or if he actually _wanted_ to join the gang. I only know that I suddenly realized that I was hurting his family member and before that realization I was going to beat the crap out of that family member."

"You realized that they are human beings." Father Lantom stated.

"You know how I sometimes fear I might like hurting people. It was one of these moments."

Claire wasn't surprised by this statement. In fact, not so long time ago she told Matt that she couldn't be with someone, who was so close to become what he fights with. It seemed that he was always painfully aware of that possibility.

"And what you did with them, when you realized they are brothers, Matthew?" Father Lantom asked.

"At first I was just standing there, thinking what to do. And then they attacked me, leaving the wound in my chest, and ran away as fast as they could. Still, I can't stop thinking about them, father. And about the fact that I almost hurt someone close to this kid. I was wondering, if they are orphans or if their parents are neglectful or abusive towards them…" He made a short pause, and with a heavy sigh, added: "Or if these two kids… because they were nothing else, but kids… ever got any help from anyone in their whole lives."

For a moment father Lantom wasn't saying anything. He just rested his hands on his knees and looked at the altar. Finally he spoke:

"You know, I don't condone many of your actions, Matthew." He turned to him and said: "But there is always one thing that I'm sure: At least you have any kind of remorse about it. You're aware that you might end up as a monster and you're disturbed by it. Many people don't realize it until it's too late and they're completely consumed by darkness." Even if his interlocutor could see it, father Lantom smiled to him. He took the chocolate bar and gave it to Matt. "If anything, you've learned a valuable lesson today, Matthew. Next time, when you encounter kids in the gang, tell them to come here. I will see, what we can do for them."

For the first time during this conversation, Matt smiled.

"I will." He nodded. "Thank you, father."

In the end, father Lantom rested his hand reassuringly on Matt's shoulder and said:

"You're a work in progress, Matthew. Like everyone else. Now," He leaned more towards him. "your latte is probably cold, so how about I'll make you another one?"

Matt smiled even wider and with the priest's assistance started to walk towards the sacristy. Claire quickly closed the door, sat at the table and tried to act causal.

Soon they were sitting and talking over the cups of latte like nothing big happened. Watching Matt, Claire couldn't help but think that he was a bit more lighthearted… like the conversation he had with father Lantom and all the heavy stuff there didn't take place. The nurse looked at the priest and started to wonder how many of these kind of conversations both men had throughout their relationship.

It seemed that Claire and father Lantom were here to heal. She was healing Matt's body, while father Lantom was healing his soul.


	2. Teachers

**So I decided to turn it into series of oneshots. Here's a part where father Lantom meets Stick.**

 **The next one will be iwth Karen. Maybe.**

 **Teachers**

Stick finally found the place. In fact, finding it wasn't so hard, the smell of the kid was hanging in the air, mixed with other smells. The old man could easily separate the distinguishing scent of Matt Murdock.

Stick was here before. He spent few nights on the roof, hiding, listening carefully, making conclusions about everything he heard. He wasn't afraid that he would be discovered by Matt, after all Stick knew few tricks when it came to hiding his presence from creatures with senses more sensitive than average humans.

Anyway, now Matt wasn't here. Now, in the middle of the night, the kid was busy with fighting street crime and wasting his potential. Besides, Stick didn't want to talk with him, anyway. No, this time he was going to talk with someone else.

And so Stick entered the church.

He tried to look like an ordinary blind man. He was even tapping his cane around. But at the same time he was seizing his surroundings. The scents, he kept smelling during all those times invigilating Matt, were more intense, but not overwhelming. He quickly sensed a figure standing at the altar and lighting the candles. However, this figure froze for a moment before lighting the last candle and quickly turning back.

"Matthew, I didn't expect you…" The man said, but cut in the midsentence. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Stick stopped and smiled. Now he could hear this voice more clearly. It belonged to an old man, in his early seventies, maybe. Stick also knew that it belonged to a priest – a priest that Matt Murdock liked to confess his sins. The old master didn't know how much the kid was telling the guy, but it seemed that father Lantom didn't recognize him.

Well, not yet.

Stick sensed that father Lantom started to walk towards him and soon the blind man felt that the priest stood next to him.

"Please, sit down." Matt's confessor said.

Stick did it. He sat on the nearest bench. Father Lantom took a seat in front of him.

"How can I help you, sir?" The priest asked. "Did you come here for spiritual support?"

Stick's smile became even wider. He decided it was time to finally speak.

"Only the weak need spiritual support."

He expected to evoke some reaction – rush of heat or heartbeat getting faster – indicating that this statement made father Lantom upset. Interestingly, there was no such thing. Stick could only hear how the old shepherd's eyebrows raise. It meant that this guy didn't get offended easily.

"I don't know how about you, but I noticed long time ago that even the strongest people in the world are sometimes weak." The priest replied.

"True." Stick nodded. "But here's the thing, father: soul doesn't exist. Primitive people made it up long time ago, because they wanted to believe that they won't vanish after death. Now science can prove the non-existence of soul – and God for that matter – and only fools believe in them."

"Oh, really?" Father Lantom still seemed to be calm. "And you came here to educate me? Because if so, I have to warn you: I could give you a long lecture on theology, history, science and philosophy, proving you wrong."

The calmness in his voice indicated that this priest had to put up with this kind of things all the time. Maybe if Stick pushed the right buttons, pulled the right emotional strings, father Lantom would lose his composure, but the old martial artist knew it wouldn't go easy. Besides, he could hear some of these famous lectures of father Lantom, when he was listening to him and Matt talking.

"But it would be a waste of time, anyway. For both of us." The priest added. "You certainly didn't come here to discuss religious issues with me and change your mind, if my arguments would seem convincing. And it's not like you will ever succeed in making me abandon my religion that is 2000 years old and still is doing fine, even though people tried to rid off of it many times."

Stick was pleased by this statement. Not only father Lantom didn't get upset, but he also made a really good point on fruitlessness of debates between people who weren't going to change their views anyway.

"So if you have no better reason to be here, than to argue with me, go out. I have other, more important things to do." And father Lantom raised from his place… but Stick used his cane like a barrier, causing the priest too stop.

"Actually," He began. "I do have better reason."

Father Lantom sat back on the bench, before he spoke with a bit annoyed tone:

"Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

Stick smiled again. Judging by the sounds coming from the outside, this night was going to be very interesting.

"Well, sir, tell me," the shepherd neared to him a bit. "what brings you here _exactly_?"

Stick didn't say anything. Partly because he wanted to make a little pause before explaining the purpose of his visit, and partly because a very pissed off Matt Murdock entered the church through the backdoor (probably sacristy). Considering the heaviness of his posture, he came here in his vigilante gear.

"Hello, _Matthew_." Stick greeted him with smile, because there was no use in hiding the fact that they knew each other.

The old master registered that father Lantom turned to him, probably even giving him a surprised look.

"So you are…" He began, but Matt cut in:

"Yes, father, this is Stick." And before any of the two old men could say anything else, he hissed at his old mentor: "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to find out who replaced me." Stick explained.

"Replaced you?!" Matt and father Lantom said at the same time, and then Matt asked:

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I remember certain someone, who gave me a friendship bracelet made of ice cream wrap."

"And _I_ remember certain someone, who crashed that bracelet and left me alone for twenty years. What's your point?"

"Well, _Matthew_ ," Stick started. "as I recall, you've made that thing because you thought of me as a father figure. And I was there only to teach you. Therefore I suspected that through all those years, you will try to look for someone, who will solve your daddy issues."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lantom decided speak. "So what you're saying is that Matthew thinks of me as a surrogate parent?"

"Perfect deduction, father!" Stick exclaimed.

"I see. Matthew," The priest turned to the vigilante. "have I got promoted? From your confessor to your father figure, that is?"

Stick noticed that father Lantom's heart started to beat oddly. He wondered if the old shepherd wasn't actually hoping that the kid was considering him a father figure, after all.

"What?! No! That's ridiculous." Was Matt's reply.

"That's what I thought." And father Lantom returned to his other guest: "You're reading too much into it, mister Stick."

"Oh really, father?" The old martial artist asked. "Little Matty… oh, I'm sorry… _Matthew_ is coming here, opening his heart to you almost every night and day, and you're giving him advices, like a good daddy should. Now, tell me you're not his father figure."

"You were spying on us?" Matt responded with silent indignation.

Stick could hear how his heartbeat gets faster and louder with anger. The kid tried hard to remain calm, but – as always with his former teacher's jeers – it was really hard.

"I don't think you know how institution of priest works, son." Father Lantom said, calm as always. He turned the attention of both blind men on himself. "In almost every religion people come to priests to seek guidance. So besides, you know, serving deities and stuff, our job is also to teach and provide them with spiritual support. I'm helping Matthew the same way as I would be helping any other person, who would come to me with similar problems."

This time it was Matt's heart that was beating oddly. The kid even gave a soft sigh. Was he actually disappointed by this statement?

"Right." Matt almost exclaimed. "Now, leave my priest alone."

"Or what?" Stick asked, raised from his seat and stood in front of place where Matt should be.

"Or I will kick your ass." The kid said.

Stick gave a hiss of fake indignation.

"Oh, Matthew, Matthew, using such a foul language in God's house…"

"Well, you were saying in God's house that God doesn't exist, so…" Father Lantom replied.

"Anyway, Stick," Judging by the sound, Matt drew out his billy clubs. "I repeat: leave my priest alone, or I will kick your ass."

The old man smirked and took a hold of his cane to use it as a fighting stick.

"Come at me, kid. I wonder if you can pull the same trick as the last time."

"Oh, I will gladly repeat it, if you don't have enough beating."

The sound o wood and joints cracking. Which meant that father Lantom stood up.

"Are you seriously going to fight in the church now? In _mine_ church, for that matter?"

For a couple of seconds Matt wasn't moving. Then…

"I'm sorry, father." He put his billy clubs back in the holsters. "I got carried away."

"Good Catholic boy, as usual." Stick commented and caught the cane normally. "We will continue later. I know a nice place for a fight."

"Is he always like that?" The priest asked.

"He likes pissing me off." Was Matt's answer.

"That's because your anger issues are almost as big as your daddy issues." Stick explained. "I want you to understand when the fury stops being useful."

"And you're doing it by being a dick."

"You always knew I'm a dick. Why are you acting like it's a totally new information for you?"

"Okay, you two." Father Lantom cut in. "Enough swearing for a one night."

"I'm only stating the fact, Stick." Matt said, ignoring Lantom.

"Anyway," His mentor went on. "people like you and me don't need priests. They don't need confessors and spiritual support. They know what they want and what they have to do."

"Killing children, for example." Daredevil pointed out.

Stick gave a sigh.

"I've told you it wasn't human. Not anymore."

"And you're not my teacher anymore, Stick, so get out of my church and of my city in general."

"I will listen to you, when you stop relying so much on others."

"The thing is," Father Lantom stepped in. He was now standing between two warriors. "that humans need other humans. We're a very sociable species."

A moment of silence. Focusing on his two interlocutors, Stick could only hear their breaths and heartbeats.

"Besides," The priest started again. "how do you know what Matthew needs and what he don't need? The thing is that you assume it all, because you think he's just like you. Even though, you can clearly see, he's not."

There was something in that statement that made Stick wonder for a moment. Yes, Matt wasn't like him. He was too sensitive (velvet sheets… every Spartan in the afterlife was screaming with annoyance at this site), too attached to his day job and two friends; too much a goody-two-shoes. He also was letting his anger take him over too easily. But, at the same time, he had a potential.

"You don't understand, shaveling." Stick finally spoke. "There will be a war soon."

"You keep talking about this war but you're not very specific on details." Matt said. "With who are we going to fight? What weapons they have? What weapons _we_ have? What's at stake? You never tell me and you want me to join your army."

"When I'll decide that you're ready to know it, I will tell you. By now you're too much of a crybaby."

"That makes no sense." Father Lantom pointed out. "If this war is supposed to happen soon, why won't you tell Matthew everything about it now, so he can be convinced to take your side?"

"Because time is relative and my 'soon' isn't necessarily your 'soon'."

"It's…" The priest began. "well, it's one of the biggest bullshits, I've ever heard. And trust me, I've heard a lot."

"Oh, father," Stick once again imitated disgust. "such language in the mouth of a God's servant?"

"I will be swearing as much as I need. That's my church. Now, let's go back to that war."

"With all due respect, father, that's none of your business."

"But it's mine." Matt cut in. "Because, you know, you want me to fight in it and stuff?"

"Patience is a virtue, _Matthew_. I will tell you when I decide you're ready."

Matt gave a exasperated sigh. He already knew he lost.

"Okay, I will leave it for now. But we will go back to this conversation."

An awkward silence fell upon them. Well, for Stick and Matt it wasn't a silence _per se_ , since they could hear various things father Lantom's ear couldn't catch on, nevertheless, it was still awkward. There was a tension hanging in the air, mainly because Matt was still pissed, while Lantom, in spite of his calmness, got nervous, probably being aware of the history between two blind men.

"So," The priest decided to finally break the silence. "would any of you like some coffee?"

For a moment Stick was contemplating the offer.

"No, thank you." Was his answer. "I have few things to do. Besides," He smirked. "I've got what I came here for." And Stick directed towards the exit.

"I will pass too." Matt added and followed his former mentor. "See you later, father."

Father Lantom bid him good bye too and both blind warriors left the church.

Few blocks away they couldn't wait any longer (especially because Stick decided to not stay quiet) and started to fight. It was a really long, painful battle and neither of the participants were holding themselves back (okay, maybe Stick was holding back a bit… after all, he didn't want the kid to die on him or something). And when they were too exhausted to fight anymore and settled for the tie (with a little lead on Stick's part, of course), they were just lying there, breathing heavily.

"Well," Stick began suddenly. "aside of the fact that you don't need him and that you're trying to solve your daddy issues, I like your priest."

"Oh, really?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, he's a pretty entertaining. You know how much I like clever remarks. And through this whole situation he remained calm. I can already say, he has balls."

"He was a missionary in place where a massacre happened." Matt explained, his voice quiet and somehow distant.

"Well, that's tough shit." Was all Stick replied on that.

After another moment of silence, Matt inquired:

"Why did you come to the church?"

"I wanted to talk with him. Get to know the guy little Matty is confessing his sins to. He seems… nice."

"He is." Matt almost whispered.

Stick stood up.

"You know, you will have to leave him behind?"

Stick could hear Matt's lips curl into smirk, as the kid replied:

"I know you will say something like that." Then he whispered: "Maybe someday I will do it."

 _But for now, you need him_ – Stick thought. – _Oh, Matt, will you ever learn?_

He started to walk away, not even turning to his former pupil. Matt didn't stop him.

"Goodbye, _Matthew_." The old man said. And this time he said the last words without irony.


	3. In a dark place

**My first fic since really long time. After I've finished watching _Luke Cage_ , I've got invaded by plot bunnies about Defenders interacting with each other. One such plot involved Luke Cage meeting father Lantom. But I decided to first arrange a meeting between father Latte and Punisher.**

 **I admit, it's not one of my best work. So tear me apart in reviews.**

 **In a dark place**

And so Frank Castle was in New York again.

He had a mission to do here. He was, of course, undercover and careful not to get caught… but he also was hoping to see an old friend.

The last time, when he had seen this friend, he was fighting with ninjas and Frank was happy to kill few of them to ease the man with his struggles (because Red couldn't kill them since he had this rule against killing which Frank was many times finding annoying, but oh, well… they were long past the ethical discourse). The Punisher also have heard about "Nelson and Murdock" getting disbanded and Karen mentioned that she broke up with Red, because of his shitty behavior… But this was all Frank knew, since he had his own problems.

Still, he was sometimes wondering how Daredevil was doing. Was he still a lawyer? Or maybe he focused on vigilantism fully? Did he mend his relationship with his best friend and Karen?

Frank was surprised to having all those thoughts. After all, Matt Murdock was a nuisance (and sometimes even a dick). He was this stupid type of people, who believe that everybody is fundamentally good and deserves a chance. Even when they are the Punisher…

Anyway, Frank thought that he should meet with Red and ask for a favor in Punisher's newest mission. He thought that he could use some back up from other vigilante, especially because they were working together before. Besides, Matt had some skills that could prove useful… even if Punisher had to put up with some of his annoying traits. If he refuses, no pressure – Frank can do it alone. But he much rather preferred to have Daredevil as a partner.

Although, he would never admit that.

So Frank started to look for the man. He, obviously, could go to his law firm (since it was no more), and he didn't know where Murdock lived (the soldier probably wouldn't go there either way; as much as he would like to wait for his ex-attorney in his apartment, he thought it won't let him get Red on his side). He wasn't sure where were Matt's favorite hang-out places and he was too in hurry to find out. Punisher even considered plugging into the police radio and listening for any indication of where The Devil of Hell's Kitchen is heading this beautiful night, but he knew it might have take him forever to determine.

And then he experienced an illumination.

That night on the roof, Red asked him if he was a Catholic, when they've heard church's bell. Maybe Red was Catholic too… It made so much sense… At that moment, while chained to the chimney, he tried to find a way to reach to Frank through religion. He also was very fixed on the atonement aspect. The more Punisher thought about it, the more he was convinced that he hit the bull's eye.

So that was a start – he had to look for Daredevil in the churches. Let's limit the area of searching to Hell's Kitchen, because that was where Red was mostly doing his work and where he, probably, lived… And _voila_ – Cathedral of Saint Patrick showed as the first result.

But some part of Frank didn't want to go there. It was long, _long_ time ago, since he entered any church. To be fair, he was never very religious to begin with, and he lost the last ounce of faith in Higher Power, when his family was taken away from him. However, he always assumed that if the mission required it, he would have to enter any kind of building.

Besides, it wasn't that he necessarily had to go _inside_. He could wait for Red outside the cathedral, where there was a really nice bench to observe everything. It won't be hard to find a man with red shades and white cane.

And so Frank Castle waited. He expected to see Matt Murdock at the morning mass at eight, but his target actually showed an hour earlier. And the more Frank was observing him, the more he realized Red acted weird. The hand he was holding his cane wth, was shaking, and he seemed to be in hurry. It wasn't hard to deduce that something was bothering him.

When the lawyer was going to enter the main gate of the church, Frank finally spoke:

"Hey, Red."

Murdock stopped and turned to him, even though he couldn't see the man, who just spoke to him.

"Great." He growled. "I only needed _you_ here. Whatever you want, Frank, I'm not in the mood." And he started to walk towards the church once again.

Red was upset. To be fair, Frank couldn't remember him being so shaken and aggravated. Most of the time Matt Murdock was calm – on the court, during the fight, even that night at the roof, when he was trying to convince him not to kill. Sure, he was sad, he was worried, he was sometimes even yelling at someone, and maybe, if Punisher would think really hard, he would recall an instance when Daredevil was actually angry. But this… this was different. This time everything about Red was telling him that he was on the edge.

And Frank was actually curious if not a bit worried. What happened? Was Red alright? After few minutes of contemplating whenever he should enter the church or not, Punisher sighed, stood up and went into the temple.

At first he got the impression that it was empty. Punisher suspected to find Daredevil sitting or kneeling, deepened in the prayers. But in the big church with rows of benches, Red was nowhere to be seen. Frank was also hit by the almost unnatural silence ruling in this place. There was something creepy about this. For a moment he really thought that he was the only person here, and he wondered why would Daredevil go there through the main gate just to leave it in different way. Didn't he come here to pray? The uneasiness he felt, being in church, only made it harder to stand.

"I can't go on, father." Someone whispered and Frank almost immediately recognized Red's voice.

And then he realized another thing – Murdock didn't leave the church. He was in the confession booth. Moreover – the silence of the church was currying his words to the place, where Frank was standing.

"Lately I feel like my work is meaningless. I'm fighting every night and day, and nothing ever changes."

The soldier carefully sat down at the nearest bench, trying not to make too much noise. Some part of him thought it was wrong to listen to someone's confession, but the curiosity got best of him. He wanted to know what was on the mind of this man and – most importantly – what was bothering him. Everything else, all of a sudden, didn't matter.

"I've told you, father, what my senses are doing." Daredevil continued and Punisher was instantly intrigued. "I can hear almost everything. Pleading for help, mugger demanding money from their victims, screams… Every night. I'm trying to save everyone, but more often than not, I'm too late. And the noises never stop. I'm painfully aware of suffering of others."

Frank thought for a moment about what he'd just heard. Well, he always wondered how it was possible that Red was such a good fighter, even though he was blind. Sometimes the soldier assumed that this whole blindness was just a ruse to mislead his enemies, but sometimes he was coming to conclusion that Daredevil was well-trained in using his other senses. But Frank would never expect that Red's hearing was _that_ good.

But if what Red was saying right now was true, than it really sucked to be him. Frank tried to imagine how it's like – hearing every bad thing happening in the city. Hearing all those bastards beating, raping, killing and taking advantage of innocent people. And not being fast enough to prevent all of this.

"You're just a human, Matthew." Some other, older voice said, taking Punisher back to reality. "You can't save everybody."

Punisher thought that it wasn't bad reply… although it wasn't good either, giving the circumstances.

Wait a minute, did this mean that the priest in the confession booth knew Daredevil's identity?

"I know, father." Red continued. "But there is always this thought on the back of my head. That there are people who are far gone in their twisted ways to ever change. And beating them to pulp isn't enough. I have this urge… to deal with them once and for all." His voice started to shake. "Some part of me… want to kill them. Get rid of the bad seed of this world."

Back then, on the roof, Frank would think that it was the first sensible decision Red ever made. Back then, Punisher would smile at this turn of events and happily accompany Daredevil with his crusade. But many things happened since Daredevil was chained to the chimney and trying to argue with Punisher. One of those things was Frank opinion on Red's code of ethics.

"Like I said." Murdock's confessor continued. "You can't save everybody. But that doesn't mean you have to stop trying, Matthew."

"I sometimes think," Matt's voice was still shaking. "that it would be better, if I've never started to fight crime. I sacrificed so much and at this point I wonder if it was worth it. My friendship with Foggy… I was lying to him and he is right to be mad at me. I feel like he will never forgive me. And I wouldn't dare to ask for his forgiveness."

"He comes here, you know." The nameless priest said suddenly. "He asks how are you or if you need anything. I think he might have forgave you long time ago. Now he's worried about you. Maybe you should finally talk to him."

"No." Was Red's reply. "He will be better off without me. I want him to be happy and safe. He won't be, if he will get close to me."

"I see." The priest commented.

"Lately, I feel like there's too much pain in the world. Like there's nothing but a sadness and suffering. There's no light in my life. No hope, no happiness, no ray to get me through this horrible times."

There was a moment of silence, in which Daredevil's words sunk in. Punisher realized that his former rival and attorney had his own demons; demons Frank wasn't aware of to this moment. No wonder he felt so shaken, coming here.

Suddenly the sound of quiet weeping echoed through the empty church, and Frank didn't have to imagine who was crying and why. And to be fair, the soldier knew this feeling of hopelessness all too well. He was in that state since his family was killed in front of his eyes. His mind will never let him forget about the worst day of his life, so he was forever doomed to see it and living in it. Red, on the other hand… He was overwhelmed by sounds of people getting hurt. He said it himself – he was aware of the suffering of others, and it was tearing him apart.

And the worst part was that Frank actually wanted to help him, but he didn't know how.

"You're in a dark place, Matthew." The priest spoke once again. His voice was calm and empathetic, but all Frank could think of, hearing it, was: _No shit, Sherlock._ "It might seem like there is no way you can get out, but believe me, it is possible. You will find the light, eventually."

Hearing this, Frank clenched his fists in aggravation. What kind of lame advice that was?! What was this shaveling thinking?!

"I will be praying for you, Matthew."

Here we go again. Another stupid thing to say. Did he really think his prayers will be of any help? No, they won't. Because the thing Matt came here with, was, in fact, impossible to overcome. The world _was_ a dark place, filled with assholes, and nothing could change that. And certainly prayers couldn't. Frank felt a sudden urge to scream all of this into this stupid priest's face.

Red stopped weeping and after another moment of silence, he said:

"Thank you, father. I really appreciate that."

The priest gave him an absolution and they left the confession booth. Frank could finally see Red's confessor. As he expected, he was an older man (seventy-something year old, maybe), small, wrinkled and half-bald. He looked like the kind of shepherd that would smilingly dismiss his parishioner's doubts and problems with clichés like: "Nobody knows God's will." Frank hated people like that, no matter the religion.

Suddenly the priest noticed a lonely man sitting on a far away bench, but he didn't say anything. Red, on the other hand, also realized Punisher's presence and called:

"Okay, Frank, what do you want?"

His confessor turned from the soldier to Matt, and asked:

"You know this man, Matthew?"

"Yes, I do." The lawyer gave a soft sigh.

Frank decided that this was the good moment to intervene.

"Hey, shaveling!" The soldier stood up and started to getting closer to the two men. "You really think that prayers can help him?!" Once he was few feet away from them he stopped. "You're sitting here all day, away from danger, while he's out there on the streets."

"Frank…" Matt started but Punisher went on:

"I guess, you've never had gun in your hands. Or that you've never had to make a hard decision in your entire life."

"Frank, shut up." Murdock growled.

"You only hear about people getting hurt. You only read about it in newspapers. You've never seen people being hideously cruel to each other. And yet you dare to tell him that everything will be okay."

"Frank, for Pete's sake, shut up."

Interestingly enough, Red was the only one replying to Punisher's accusations. The priest himself remained silent and oddly calm. At the time Frank thought his arguments rendered him speechless, but later realized it was something entirely different.

"Don't talk about things you have no idea, shaveling!" He continued his rant. "Someone like you will never understand how it's like to see all this suffering and not be able to do anything about it!"

"He was a missionary in Rwanda!" Matt screamed. "So yes, he knows how it's like!"

And suddenly it was just silence, as the meaning of Daredevil's words fell on Frank. Rwanda. He knew that name. A moment later, he realized from where. All the stories he ever heard about these fateful events were coming back to him.

And then he felt ashamed of what he just said. For Heaven's sake… what kind of atrocities this man had to witness on his own two eyes? Who knows – maybe he himself lost something or someone during the Rwandian genocide…

"You didn't have to tell him this." The priest said, out of the blue, looking at Matt.

"Yes, I had." Red replied, but then gave a soft sigh and added: "I'm sorry that I revealed something like this, but Frank pissed me off."

With every passing second, Punisher felt more stupid. He made an assumption about the person he barely knew and made a horrible mistake. And it wasn't the first time, which the blind man at his side could confirm.

"I'm sorry, father." Frank said finally and he really meant it. But the priest didn't seem angry or anything.

"Well, then." He looked at the soldier. "Let's start from the beginning." He extended his arm towards Frank. "My name is Lantom."

Frank was observing the old shepherd's hand, wondering if he should shake it or not.

"Is something wrong, son?" Red's confessor said after a moment of Frank just staring and not saying anything.

"I'm not sure if you would want me to shake your hand, if you knew who I am." He finally explained.

"Try me." Father Lantom replied.

"My name is Frank Castle." The Punisher introduced himself.

He expected father Lantom to withdraw his hand. He expected him to look at him with disgust. He expected him to show any kind of animosity after hearing that a multiple murderer was standing in front of him. But nothing of sorts happened. The only reaction the identity of a mysterious man caused in the old shepherd was:

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Of all the things, father Lantom could have said, this one seemed to be the least probable. But when Frank started to think about all the instances when Matt Murdock tried to talk him out of killing bandits; or all the trouble he and his friends went through to defend him in court, even though he was the Punisher, he quickly realized that he shouldn't be all that surprised.

"Thank you, father." He said, smiling sadly. And then he added: "I guess, you would like to be left alone. So I will leave. See you soon, Red."

"See you soon, Frank." Was Matt's response. He even smiled lightly.

Punisher started to walk towards the exit, but he heard father Lantom saying:

"Maybe you would like some coffee?"

Frank stopped and with small grin he turned to the man.

"Maybe some other time, father."

When he left the church, he didn't go anywhere. He just sat on the same bench where he was waiting for Red. He started to reflect on what he had heard today. Murdock wasn't fine. Frank could even say that at this moment he had a vocation crisis. He was only human. Very formidable and capable of ass-kicking, but still only human. A human that desperately tried to fix this world, but he could never save everyone. And this was eating him from the inside. Especially because he not only wanted to save victims, but also the oppressors. Ultimately, his mission was far more difficult than Frank's.

Punisher was sitting on the bench even when people started to come to mass and after said mass ended. It was a chilly day and he knew, he would have to go on his mission eventually, but at that time, he felt like just sitting there and let his mind wander.

Suddenly someone sat beside him. When Frank turned to that person, he saw Red himself. For a moment they were both silent, until Murdock decided to speak:

"Remember what you've told me on the roof?"

"I've said many things, Red. You have to be more precise."

"You said that we don't choose what make us whole. For you it's shooting to the bad guys and for me it's this." He pointed his chin at the building behind them.

Punisher could not believe in God, but Daredevil did. He needed that to remain sane, to remain human, to not forsake his principals. He also needed a priest, who will listen to him and who will know firsthand that one day there might be a light in a dark place.

"I… understand. I'm sorry once again." Frank said. Another moment of silence and he continued: "You remember what else I've said on that roof? I've called you coward."

"Yes, you were very charming."

"The thing is," Frank turned to his interlocutor. "I didn't know you back then. I only assumed that you must be some kind of goody-two-shoes, who thinks he's better than me and doesn't understand the consequences of his actions. But then you've saved me. You took my case, you and your friends tried to get to the bottom line of what was happening. That was because you wanted to give me second chance and believed I deserved one."

"Well, Karen believed it too…" Matt cut in, but it didn't disturb Frank:

"I've also got to fight beside you. I grew to respect you."

"Yeah?" Daredevil raised his eyebrow.

"It's not as easy as someone would have expect, not to kill your opponents. And yet, you're always going out of your way to avoid killing. I admire you for that."

"Thanks." Red smiled. "I needed to hear that."

 _I guess, you did_ , Frank thought.

"By the way, I like your priest." He added suddenly. "You and him suit to each other."

Daredevil chuckled and once again both men were sitting in silence, before one of them decided to break it:

"He was right about one thing: you can't save everybody, Red. So when you encounter some bad guy that can't be saved, just tell me his name."

"I'm sure, I can take care of them myself." Murdock smiled again. "But thanks for the offer."

In the end, Red agreed to help him with his mission, but under one condition – Frank won't kill anybody. Punisher said he couldn't make any promises, nevertheless, he tried to avoid killing. When they finished, they both had a sense of accomplishment.

And when they parted ways, Frank could see a smile on Matt's face. One of many that day. It was actually good to see him smile after all the things Frank heard from him in the church. Maybe he'd already seen the light. Frank really hoped so.


End file.
